


Fractured Light

by Artemis1000



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Caamas, Established Relationship, Holidays, Hoth, Jedha, M/M, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: Bodhi and Cassian speak of celebrating the Rainbow of Sunshine Festival under unlikely circumstances, and maybe come to understand another a little better.Written for Week 2 of Sniperpilot Winter - Holiday Traditions.





	Fractured Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for [Sniperpilot Winter]() and its Week 2 theme: Holiday Traditions. I went with a mix of the interfaith celebration and not celebrating the holidays prompts.
> 
> The Rainbow of Sunshine Festival is a Legends canon festival, I can't take credit for it, though I couldn't find information on what actually happens at the festival, so this I made up based on what we know about the Caamasi and Jedhans. I chose this festival because I couldn't find the religious Jedi holiday I had been hoping to find, and a holiday of the people who inspired the Jedi to become all Jedi-like seemed to be the next best thing. Wasn't until I was writing that I realized the painful irony of Jedhans keeping a Caamasi tradition alive, for in Legends Caamas is an early, maybe the first world destroyed by the then young Empire... by orbital bombardment.

It was over dinner on Hoth that it came up, one of these dinners when it was just the two of them digging into small bowls of questionable ration porridge. It wasn’t the tastiest of meals, but it meant time alone instead of braving the crowded mess hall, something neither of them felt like when their missions had taken a toll on them.

“So. The Rainbow of Sunshine Festival. This Benduday, right?”

Bodhi smiled uncertainly at Cassian, and felt a little chagrined with himself for his smile looking sheepish when he had no reason to look sheepish. But there was something so blatantly skeptical about Cassian’s facial expression, it was hard not to feel discomfited in his own skin under his scrutiny.

“Yes.” He lifted his chin a little higher with determination. “The Rainbow of Sunshine Festival. Never celebrated it in the middle of a blizzard with no sunshine to see, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Cassian’s frown smoothened a little, Bodhi could see amusement lurk in the corners of his eyes. “Isn’t the Force supposed to be everywhere?”

He spoke with the irreverence of a non-believer – not a disbeliever, for the Force was tangible and proven. Cassian had simply chosen that the fact it was scientifically proven to exist did not entitle it to his reverence any more than gravity.

It was still jarring sometimes to Bodhi, who had grown up in a place of deep worship, his home the destination of pilgrims from all over the galaxy and his own family deeply religious. He had learned early in his life to associate such indifference to the Force with Imperials, something he could never tell Cassian, for he would be deeply hurt by the comparison.

“It is!” he said, maybe a little too brightly to be all believable, for Cassian’s brows furrowed a little deeper again.

“It’s a Caamasi holiday,” Bodhi reminded Cassian. He felt only a little bad for the cheap shot. It was true.

Cassian ate another spoonful of the grey paste, then stirred listlessly in his still half-full bowl. When given the choice, he was a picky eater, one of these little quirks that never failed and amused Bodhi all over again.

“And you celebrate it.”

“Many people on Jedha do. Caamas may be gone, but it isn’t forgotten.” Suddenly, but not unexpectedly, Bodhi felt a lump in his throat. It had been 20 years ago, he had been a child when his parents mourned the loss of the peaceful world whose people had been almost universally beloved. “That’s what my Mom always said. I guess the same can be said of Jedha now.”

Cassian shifted, one arm snaking around Bodhi’s waist to pull him back against him.

Bodhi sank back into him, his warmth, his smell, the gentle tickling feeling as Cassian’s nose nuzzled his hair.

In silent agreement, they put down their bowls, interest lost in forcing themselves to eat the goop.

“Caamas was mostly rainforests, right?” Cassian asked quietly, his voice a soft murmur breathed into Bodhi’s hair.

“Yes. So I’m sure they celebrated it differently on Caamas, but on Jedha we had pilgrimages…” Cassian made a little noise at this and Bodhi snorted, pinching Cassian’s side playfully. “Don’t even start. We were a moon of pilgrims and temples, of course we had a lot of pilgrimages.”

He paused, had to think where he had been when Cassian distracted him. “So, we had processions, and we went to the temple and meditated. Meditations were usually on morality, after all, it’s said that the earliest Jedi learned morality from the Caamasi. It was a day of remembering that we are all one within the Force and above all, appreciating the Caamasi values of pacifism.” Bodhi’s tone turned wry as he added, “you wouldn’t have liked it.”

Cassian chuckled into his ear, soft and warm both in tone and in the warm brush of his breath that tickled the shell of Bodhi’s ear.

Bodhi’s fingers trailed over the back of Cassian’s hand. He traced the veins that shone through his tanned skin, a little lighter than his own. Cassian’s hands had more callouses, more scars, though Bodhi was quickly catching up. With the Empire, everyone did their one assigned job and didn’t deviate. In the Rebellion, he was using his mechanical talents whenever he wasn’t in the air.

“After the Caamasi Firestorm we would hang up garlands with slivers of Jedhan kyber crystals or crystal powder which reflected the sunshine like a rainbow. It was our way of trying to honor their memory, and grieve with the refugees who had settled on Jedha.”

He swallowed again, wondering if one day there would be similar rituals to remember Jedha. Then, more bitterly, if anybody would even remember Jedha, or if it would be forgotten, overshadowed by the loss of Alderaan.

“I don’t know if anybody’s got kyber to spare these days.”

“I don’t think so.”

They fell silent again, not picking up their food again, but just enjoying the other’s closeness.

“I’m sure we can figure something out. As for the sunshine… Well, that’s up to Hoth’s weather.”

“Which means no sunshine,” Bodhi surmised.

“Hey, I’ll have you know there was a sunny day… last week.”

Bodhi couldn’t help grinning. Sour Cassian trying his hand at optimism for his sake was downright endearing. “Maybe we’ll get a festival miracle then.”

“Or you might want to rebrand it as a snow festival,” ever practical Cassian interjected.

“You know, that’s a wonderful idea!” Bodhi replied with pointed, obnoxious cheerfulness. “Snow sparkles, too.” He twisted around in Cassian’s arms to turn that grin on him. “And then you’ll have to tell me about Fest’s holidays. No religious ones, but you must have local holidays.”

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Cassian looked both flustered and pleased under his pretense of annoyance. “Nothing like Jedha’s holidays.”

“Of course not.” Of course it wouldn’t be like Jedha, Bodhi had figured as much. They were both from cold worlds, but the Festans were a pragmatic, stern people and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was quite common there to have no use for spirituality.

“I like the winter festivals best,” Cassian admitted as reluctantly as if admitting as much was a great burden to him, “and yes I know it’s winter all year long. I mean, celebrating the deepest of winter, and the end of it. Not that anybody but a Festan would be able to tell the difference.”

Bodhi hummed to himself. “It’s hard to imagine that it _ever_ gets noticeably less wintery on Hoth, even for you, but we should ask one of the scientists.”

And if visiting different planets as a pilot had taught him one thing, it was that winter festivals across the galaxy were oftentimes very jolly celebrations. No wonder Cassian was embarrassed to admit he liked it best.

“So. You’re helping me with the garlands. And then, once the Rainbow of Sunshine Festival is over, you tell me about your holidays?”

It was truly intended as a question, he wouldn’t be pushing Cassian if he didn’t want to share, but the, “alright,” he got sounded more like acknowledgment of a fact. Maybe Cassian wasn’t as reluctant to share as he liked to pretend.

Soon enough, they would both feel a little closer to their homes even here amidst wintery Hoth.


End file.
